Divorced By Midnight, Billionaire By Dawn

CHAPTER 17: BLACKWOOD'S THREAT

JULIAN

The rain had washed the dirt off the stone steps of City Hall, but it had not cooled the fire in my chest.

I stood beside the back door of the Maybach and watched the red and blue lights of Chief Dalton's police car fade down Government Boulevard. Raven was inside it. Handcuffed. Taken away like a street thug for protecting me from Blackwood's hired men.

Behind me, the eight operators who had walked into the chamber stood in a quiet circle, their coats buttoned over their guns.

"Master Julian," Briggs, my head of security, said, stepping up to my shoulder. "We have twenty men around Central Booking. Give the word, and we stop the transport before it reaches the police garage. Nobody in this city has the firepower to stop Squadron Seven."

"Stand down, Briggs," I said. My voice was quiet and even. "Blackwood staged all of this in front of fifty live cameras. If we break Raven out by force, we prove his lie. We become the foreign criminals he says we are, on prime-time TV. That is how he wins the mayor's race."

"Then what do we do, sir?" Briggs asked, his jaw tight. "The council's emergency order froze every Skyward account in the city. You have forty-eight hours before their review cancels our business licenses."

I did not answer right away. I looked down at my hand. My knuckles were pale from holding back, but the shaking had already turned into cold, clear focus.

A hand touched my arm.

Vivienne stood next to me under the big umbrella. Her hair was still neat in its knot, and the sea wind had not moved a strand. She had stayed quiet all the way down the steps, but her hazel eyes were sharp and bright.

She slipped her fingers under her wool coat and pressed them against the small tape inside her pocket.

"He took the paper ledger," Vivienne whispered, her voice firm. "He thinks he has the only proof of what your father found. He doesn't know Thomas recorded everything on tape."

"And he won't know until the trap closes," I said, meeting her eyes. "Let's get in the car."

We slid into the leather seats of the armored car. Briggs shut the door, and the seals locked with a hiss. He pulled out into the evening traffic toward Croft Tower.

Inside the car, the screen on the console flickered on. The local news was already replaying the fight in the council chamber. A yellow banner flashed across the bottom:

BREAKING: SKYWARD GUARDS ATTACK CITY OFFICERS; COUNCILMAN BLACKWOOD CALLS FOR FEDERAL HELP

On the screen, Blackwood stood at his podium with his warm, fatherly smile. He shook hands with Chief Dalton while they held up my father's black leather ledger in a clear plastic evidence bag.

Ping.

My secure phone chimed. It was not an overseas Ashcombe number. It was a local, private line.

I tapped the screen and lifted the phone to my ear. "Hayes."

"Mr. Hayes. Or should I say Mr. Ashcombe?"

Raymond Blackwood's smooth, rough voice came through, full of pride. Behind it, I heard the soft clink of a whiskey glass. He was already celebrating.

"You put on quite a show today, boy," Blackwood said, chuckling. "Taking down the Sterling family was cute. Marcus was an old fool who could not even manage his own books, and Derek was a spoiled brat. But this is City Hall. In Emerald Bay, money does not make the rules. I do."

"You talk a lot for a man whose future sits in an evidence locker, Raymond," I said, and leaned my head back against the seat.

Blackwood let out a cold, short laugh. "That ledger? You really thought you could dig up an eighteen-year-old book and scare me? By midnight, the records will show a fire in the basement of the 4th Precinct. Your father's little diary will be smoke."

Vivienne's eyes narrowed as she listened to the speaker.

"And as for your assistant, Miss Blake," Blackwood went on, his voice turning poisonous. "She attacked city officers on government property. I have already spoken to the magistrate. No bail. She will sit in county jail for forty-eight hours while state lawyers write up federal terror charges. By tomorrow morning, Skyward Holdings will be banned across the whole East Coast."

"What do you want, Blackwood?" I asked.

"I'm a reasonable man, Julian," Blackwood said smoothly. "Croft Enterprises holds fifty-one percent of the harbor project. Have Vivienne Croft sign it over to the Blackwood Municipal Development Trust for one dollar. Pack your bags, fly your private jet back to whatever European hole you crawled out of, and I might let your assistant plead to a small charge."

I looked out the dark window. The Maybach was crossing the bridge over the harbor. Far below, the black water where my parents died slapped against the stone pillars.

"Raymond," I said softly.

"I'm listening, boy."

"Eighteen years ago, my father gave you a chance to say no to the bribe," I said, each word heavy as lead. "You took the money and sank his ship. I will not make the mistake of giving you a second chance."

"Is that a threat?" Blackwood sneered.

"It's a bill," I said. "You took my father's ledger. You took my right hand. Sleep with both eyes open, Raymond. Because before the sun comes up, you won't have a campaign left to run."

I ended the call with my thumb and turned to Briggs in the front seat.

"Briggs."

"Yes, Master Julian?"

"Call our Zurich office. I want every donor to Raymond Blackwood's mayor campaign checked within the hour. Every property fund, every bond dealer, every offshore company sending money to his campaign. If any of them owe money to an Ashcombe bank, call in that debt. Now."

"Understood, sir."

Vivienne leaned forward and brushed her fingers over the back of my hand. Her touch was warm against the cold edge of my anger.

"Blackwood thinks he controls the courts," Vivienne said quietly, her hazel eyes bright. "He forgot who pays for them. Two of the biggest donors to his judges' fund are shipping companies that rent their docks from Croft Enterprises."

I looked at her, and a small smile touched my mouth. "How fast can you call in their leases?"

"By eight o'clock tonight," Vivienne said, and pulled her phone from her purse. "Let's see how brave his friends stay when their money runs dry."